


Better Days Are Near

by Hawkguys_and_Coffee



Series: Inktober 2020 [2]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: CCC - Freeform, Civilian Conservation Corps, Gen, Historical Inaccuracy, It's a 1930's AU where they meet wach other to find work, and its inktober!!, ive been wanting to write this for a while
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26786299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkguys_and_Coffee/pseuds/Hawkguys_and_Coffee
Summary: The Civilian Conservation Corps was founded in 1933 by President Franklin D. Roosevelt.  It was a way for young men to support their families and earn money during the Great Depression.  It was there for young men to build character.  It was there to provide jobs for the jobless.For David Jacobs, it was a way out.Prompt: Wisp
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: Inktober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951333
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Better Days Are Near

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2!
> 
> I've been wanting to write something like this for a while. I love history but don't know too much about the CCC. Bear with me for the historical inaccuracies.

The form was turned in on a sleepy September day by seventeen-year-old David Jacobs. He opened the iron mail drop as he had done a thousand times before and stared down at the inked address in a way that, if he stared hard enough, it could surely reach its destination. A drop of rain fell and smudged his name, making it so it read ‘David J--obs. It was no matter, though. As long as the delivery address could be read, David Jacobs was a happy man.

The stamp was already beginning to peel off from the cold, the edges turned slightly upwards. The air in New York today was wet and damp, soaking into the seams of his thin jackets and burrowing deep into his bones.

“Ay, you gonna wait there all day, boy?” A man behind him called out.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” David said, dropping in the letter without a second thought. He watched grimly as it tumbled down onto the pile of other letters, face up for what it seemed like the whole world to see. The ink of the sending address stood out bold and brash. 

_Civilian Conservation Corps_  
_1899 Bursar Street_  
_Santa Fe, New Mexico ___

__David straightened his spine and moved to walk away. He had done it. Soon, the letter would be mailed and he’d find a way to support his family. Papa wouldn’t need to worry about finding a job for a bit longer and Les could get some better shoes. David only needed to wait a few days. Only a few more days._ _

__\--_ _

__One Week Later_ _

__Santa Fe was nothing like David Jacobs had thought it would be. It was hot. It was dry. And, most importantly, it was jam-packed with young men his age. Well, he thought after a moment, kids a bit older than him._ _

__The thing was, David had lied about his application. Eighteen was the minimum requirement to join the CCC and he was five months short. It didn’t matter, though. As long as nobody found out, he could earn money and pull his own._ _

__He trudged to the sign-in stand and presented his form._ _

__“Name?” A tired clerk asked._ _

__“Uh,” David cleared his throat. “David Jacobs. I’m from Manhattan.”_ _

__“Date of birth?”_ _

__“August 1st, 1915.”_ _

__The man nodded and crossed out a name. “You’re here. Bring your bag over to that group over there- the one with the red flag- yeah, that one- and the boys can help you get settled in. Dinner is in a half hour and work starts at six thirty tomorrow. Breakfast starts at five. Don’t be late. Supplies will be provided on the job. Next!”_ _

__“…Right,” David said. The group of boys were not far off. They were all wearing some array of overalls and undershirts. “Um, hi. I just arrived. Any idea of where I can put my stuff?”_ _

__“In the tent there,” A scraggly-haired boy with a cigarette hanging from his lips said. “Here, I can show ya.” He tossed the butt on the ground and squashed it with his heel. "I arrived here a day ago; most everyone in this group is new.” The boy held out his hand. The name’s Higgins. Antonio Higgins. You can call me Race, though.”_ _

__“David Jacobs.”_ _

__“Right this way, Sir Davey,” Race said with a cheeky smile, bowing and gesturing to the square cabin with a tarp roof. “The only empty bed in near the back, though luck. We each get a crate for things. Just put your bag under the bed. Hey boys!” He called out. “This here is Davey Jacobs.”_ _

__“Actually, It’s David not—”_ _

__“I’m Jack.”_ _

__“Sean.”_ _

__“Romeo.”_ _

__“Benjamin.”_ _

__“I’m Mike.”_ _

__“Al.”_ _

__“Well, nice to meet you all,” David nodded at each of them in turn. After a few more greetings were tossed around he put out his few belongings on the crate near his bed. A framed photograph of Mama, Papa, and Les taken years ago, long before the crash of ’29. Along with the photograph, David tossed a few books on the crate to read if he found the time. It wasn’t much, but it would work._ _

__“Hey, Jacobs, the boys and I are talkin’ bout havin’ a campfire come night. You in?” Jack asked, nodding his head in David’s direction. He seemed to be the leader of the group by the way he held himself. Calm, collected, and charismatic. “We can just relax ‘till work starts tomorrow.”_ _

__“Sure,” David said._ _

__“Well then,” Jack slung an arm over David’s shoulder and rubbed his head. “Welcome to the gang.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Since it was mostly implied, the prompt wisp was used when Jack mentioned a campfire. Campfires have wisps of smoke so BAM! I'm not completely crazy!


End file.
